AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was quiet as she stared out the window at her grandparents’ home. “Whoever bought it has put some work into it. The landscaping looks nice, almost like it did when my grandparents lived here.”
Without saying anything, he eased the car into the driveway, and she turned to him.
“What are you doing? It's Thanksgiving! Someone could be in there having dinner.”
He put the car in park and shut off the engine and then got out, and she did the same. “Will! We can't just walk around and check the place out!”
He walked to her and took her hand and closed the car door. “Come on,” he said and led her across the driveway.
“What are youdoing? Where are we going?”
He’d purposely told her uncle to leave the “For Sale” sign with the bright red SOLD sticker splashed across it leaning against the cement steps that led to the side door of the house, and he nodded toward it now, his heart in his throat.
“It's okay, Lizzy. I know the owner. Come on.”
“What do you mean you know—?”
She stopped mid-sentence and dropped his hand, and that was it; he knew that she knew, that she’d figured it out.
He turned to her, and the picture she presented instantly, amazingly, brought tears to his eyes. She stood with both hands covering her face, leaving only her eyes visible. Her eyes darted first to him, then to the house, then to the sign, and then back to him. She shook her head slightly and turned to walk toward the car.
He waited, wanting to give her the time she needed to let it sink in; but he felt too far away, and so he walked to her, stopping just behind her.
She was shaking, and he gently took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and he encircled her in his arms and held her close. She buried her face in his neck, and finally wrapped her arms around him as well. He held her tightly, stroking her hair, murmuring into her ear, not saying much of anything, really, just telling her how much he loved her.
Once she quieted, he pulled back from her a little, peering down into her damp eyes. The late afternoon sun shone through the trees, casting dappled shadows over her face, and he thought that he’d never seen her look so vulnerable, yet so beautiful. He swallowed, his throat thick with emotion, and stroked her cheek before kissing her gently.
“Come inside, Lizzy.”
They held hands, and when they got to the top step, he paused and handed her the key so she could unlock the door.
Elizabeth steppedthrough the doorway of the house, which led into the kitchen. She was shocked that she was here, standinghere, in this kitchen. The first thing she noticed were the cabinets, painted the same pale blue that she remembered. As a girl, she could never reach the top shelf in those cabinets, and still wouldn't be able to now. Her grandfather had built the ceilings throughout the house very high, more than likely to accommodate his six-foot-five-inch frame, and the cabinets extended all the way up.
Leaving the kitchen, she wandered into the dining room and gasped when she saw the built-in corner china cabinets, their glass fronts gleaming, the wood highly polished. She could picture her grandmother's china in there, tucked away for special occasions. The cabinets looked beautiful, just as they did in her memories.
Off the dining room was the parlor, which ran along the entire front of the house. From the parlor, you could walk into the living room, and from the living room, you could walk back into the dining room. It formed a sort of loop, and when she and her sisters were little, that loop was a well-worn racetrack.
The parlor was her favorite room. The front was all windows, and her grandmother used to keep a writing desk there. A daybed had been tucked in the corner, and she used to love sleeping there during the summer with the windows thrown open; the steady sound of the traffic always lulled her to sleep. And it was where she would sit with her grandfather after he’d had his stroke. He would stare out the windows, watching the cars pass, and she would keep him company. Sometimes they sat in the living room and watched television, but he’d enjoyed sitting in the parlor most of all.
A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, warming the living room, and an air mattress, made up with sheets, blankets, and piles of pillows, was pushed against the wall. Other than that, there wasn't a single piece of furniture to be seen.
She suddenly realized she hadn't said a word to Will since they’d entered the house. She turned to him now, and her lips quivered. “I'm–I'm sorry,” she said softly, and cleared her throat.
His brows furrowed. “Why are you sorry?”
“I haven't–I haven’t said anything since we walked in.” She looked around her, taking everything in. “This is…it's unbelievable. It's like a dream. I can't quite comprehend that I'm standing here.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “You are.”
“It's just…a lot. To take in, I mean. It's overwhelming.”
He nodded. “It's okay. Let's finish looking around.”
They walked back into the kitchen, and she opened the door to the pantry. It was huge, with three walls of spacious shelves. She smiled when she saw the familiar old lighting fixture, operated with a pull cord, hanging inside.
They walked into the hallway and then into the first bedroom, which had belonged to her grandparents. The walls were painted the same powder blue that she remembered, but the room looked so much smaller now. She left that bedroom and went to the next, and this one, too, was painted the same color she remembered: a pleasant shade of green.
She laughed when she turned on the bathroom light. The walls were still bright pink, her grandmother’s favorite color, and a large, claw-foot tub stood in the corner. The last bedroom was Elizabeth's favorite. The walls were a pale peach, and when she was little and not quite old enough to sleep in the parlor alone, this is where she’d slept with Lydia and Jane.
